CHAPTER 37
The doorbell rang twice before Nathan got up and opened the door. “Dev.”
“Nathan!” She stepped in and gave him an enthusiastic hug. He returned it with a mediocre one. “Sorry I’m not dressed yet. Was on a call longer than intended.”
“I’m on vacation with nothing but time.” He didn’t respond. Dev stepped back, brows knitted. “Are you all right?”
“Not really,” he admitted. “Come on. Let’s sit down.”
They entered the living room and sat on the couch.
“You don’t look good, Nathan.”
“I don’t feel good either.”
“What happened? Just a little while ago, you sounded fine.”
“Yes, well . . .” Nathan placed his face in his hands, taking a deep breath before rubbing his eyes and face and then allowing his hands to drop into his lap. “I’ve been dealing with something, a sickness that comes and goes.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
He nodded. “Just got off the phone with one, matter of fact. He ran some tests.”
Dev waited. When Nathan remained quiet, she asked him, “Did he find anything?”
Nate’s phone rang. He looked at it but ignored the call. “There’s nothing for you to worry about, Develia Nixon, especially on your last night in Atlanta.” He stood. “So let me fix you a drink, show you the roof, and jump into the shower. You helped me have a great time in Nassau. It’s time for me to return the favor!”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely. In fact, come on in the kitchen while I mix your drink. I might need your help with something.”
Five minutes later Dev went to the roof and Nathan headed for the shower. He felt better under the spray of hot water, but by the time he joined Dev a short time later, his stomach was in knots again.
Jessica was numb. Her emotions were shot. Sissy was getting more and more frustrated at her lack of progress in taking out Nathan. She’d questioned her sincerity in carrying out the plan and again threatened to cut off contact if she changed her mind or, in Sissy’s words, “chose him over family.” And on top of that, her stupid cell phone was deciding which calls it would answer and which ones she wouldn’t receive at all. Dialing out had been a problem, too. She knew she shouldn’t have listened to Sprint when she’d been tempted to switch to AT&T. She’d called to cancel and they’d transferred her to the retention department, who’d given her more features while lowering her bill by fifteen dollars. Today she was learning that it didn’t matter how low your bill was if the phone didn’t work. For the third time that day, she tried to reach Nate. After calling his office and being surprised with the news that he’d left work at five, she’d tried him on his cell. The next two times she’d tried to call him, her phone had other ideas. Please go through. She impatiently tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. Dial tone! Yay! Voice mail. Crap. She tossed down the phone in frustration. Time for Plan B. I’ll just go to his house anyway. If he’s not there, I’ll wait.
Thanks to light traffic it took only half an hour to get home, and that included two stops. She stood in the kitchen, checking off a mental list as she looked around. I think I have everything. She placed the warm plastic container of soup she’d bought from Nate’s favorite deli into a recycle bag, along with yet more of his special juice and soda. Extra antifreeze was poured into an empty shampoo bottle and the arsenic was transferred from its medicinal-looking bottle into a colored travel-size plastic container. After placing these items at the bottom of an overnight bag, she threw in an outfit for work tomorrow, undies and toiletries and was out the door.
Before she left her block, the phone rang. One look at the caller ID and she immediately thought to ignore the call. Of all the times my phone chooses to work. This is the last person I want to talk to right now. Then, remembering what Sissy had said about keeping Sherri out of Atlanta, she pulled to the side of the road. This conversation was going to demand her full attention, and acting skills as well. She pressed the speaker button. “Hello, Sherri.”
“Jessica, hi. I’m glad I caught you.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s Nathan. He’s been hard to reach and when we do talk, our conversations are brief. He seems to rush me off the phone, and that’s unusual. Have you seen him lately?”
“Not as much as I’d like. We haven’t had the chance to talk much, either. He’s had back-to-back out of town trips, and business meetings that last all day. I’m on my way to his house now though, and can have him call you.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Sherri murmured, obviously processing what Jessica said.
“He does need to slow down, and tonight that’s what I plan to help him do. I want to take his mind off work . . . if you know what I mean . . . get him to relax.”
She heard Sherri’s sigh of relief. “Thank you, Jessica. You know what? I owe you an apology. Nathan told me about the engagement. I should have called sooner. We’ve had our problems, but my brother seems happy. Congratulations.”
Jessica relaxed, not knowing whether to laugh or cry at the statement’s irony. “Thank you.” She swallowed the sudden lump that formed in her throat, forced it away along with tears and feelings.
“So he hasn’t been sick again, not since he went to emergency?”
“No.” Never had it been harder to push a two-letter lie past her lips.
“That’s what he told me. He said the tests James ran all checked out okay.”
Jessica’s eyes widened. What kind of tests are you talking about? And who the hell is James?
“Did he share anything more specific with you?”
“He told me the same thing. That everything is good. Except for not getting enough sleep, I think he’s fine. His appetite is normal and when he was sick, he hardly ate a thing.” This fact both bothered Jessica and brought relief. That’s why she’d bought extra. Tonight, she wanted results!
“Thanks again, Jessica. I feel better after talking to you.”
“You’re welcome.” I’ve answered your questions. Now please say good-bye.
“Nathan is my heart. What happened between us in the beginning was never personal. It really wasn’t. I only want what’s best for my brother and who’s best for him. From what he’s told me, and now what I’m seeing, it could be you.”
Again tears threatened. She dug sharp fingernails into her palm to quell her emotions. It was easy to despise the bitchy Sherri she’d encountered on the island. The words coming from this kind, gentler version threatened to seep through the wall she’d built around her heart and more lately, her conscience. This call must end. Now! “Thank you. Good—”
“Nate says that after he gets settled into his new position, he might go down to the Bahamas on a mini-break. I’m sure he’ll want to take you with him.”
“If I can get the time off, I’ll go. Look, I—”
“What do you do? I’m not being nosy, just still know so little about you, and since we’re going to be sisters it’s time I learn more.”
The less the better, is what she thought. “At a law firm,” is what she said. “Sherri, I’m at Nathan’s and have bags to carry inside. I’ll talk to you later. Good-bye.”
She ended the call, waited ten full seconds, and burst into tears.
After returning home to wash the emotion off her face—stained cheeks, red eyes—she hurried back to the loft. He’d called. She’d missed it while running water in the bathroom sink. He hadn’t sounded good at all. Perhaps he drank all of the orange juice I left. That carton contained both toxins, in higher doses. Trying to follow Sissy’s instructions—increase the doses but keep him out of the emergency room—was a tall order for a novice, especially one who didn’t really want him to die. Sherri’s call only increased her stress. If the increased doses were working, then Nathan would become very ill. If Sherri learned this, she’d catch the next flight. I’ll have to think of something to keep them from talking and to keep her away. Jessica decided to call Sissy. Her devious sister always had a plan.
Jessica rang the doorbell and then let herself in. “Nathan, it’s me!”
The house was quiet.And dark. “Babe?” A chill snaked down her spine. What if . . . no. She called louder. “Nathan?” Still no answer. Her heart began to pound. She set down her bags near the door and looked up the stairs. “Baby, are you up there?”
She placed a foot on the first stair. The stillness became oppressive, threatened to overwhelm her. Throughout this process she’d not thought about this moment, had forced away the possibility of watching him die or finding him dead. Stop being silly, Jessica. He just called. But he’d sounded so weak on the message. Her knees began to shake, forcing her to stop on the third stair and grab the rail for balance. An errant thought flittered through her mind. I’ve never been to a funeral before, or seen a dead body up close. The reality of what her actions may have caused, a man’s death, made her nauseous. The thought of seeing Nathan cold and lifeless created abject sadness. Tiny beads of sweat broke out on her forehead; clammy hands clutched her throat. She’d never had a panic attack but thought this might be one. She sat down and bent over so blood rushed to her head, took several breaths—deep, even—until the shaking stopped. After a moment she gritted her teeth, got up from the step, and slowly climbed the staircase.
“Nathan?”
Her voice sounded loud and hollow: an intruder to the quiet, an invader to the eerie peace.
Top of the stairs. Down the hall. She was here now. Just outside his door. Optimism flared as she processed what she saw. Is this why he didn’t hear me? Because his bedroom door is closed?
She knocked, first softly and then louder. “Nathan!”
Silence. She almost faltered. What she’d set out to do had obviously been accomplished. I loved you, Nathan. I’m so very sorry. I loved you so much!
This realization brought a new set of fears. She and Sissy hadn’t talked about what to do with his body. Whatever it was couldn’t implicate her. Jessica had begun to reach for the doorknob, but this thought made her pull back her hand. I shouldn’t touch the doorknob. It will leave fingerprints. What am I thinking? My prints are all over this friggin’ house! There was no way she could be the one to find him. Had anyone seen her come into his place? What about the empty containers from what he’d eaten and drank? Were they in the garbage? Had his trash been picked up? So many questions, so many loose ends to secure. The sooner she confirmed her worst fears, the faster she could focus on distancing herself from this loft and his illness.
With an empty heart and steely resolution she covered her hand with a piece of her top, reached for the knob, and turned it.